


Equal to A Death Sentence

by HuiLian



Category: DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Drunken Confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 01:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13225299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuiLian/pseuds/HuiLian
Summary: A drunken night, leads to a drunken confession





	Equal to A Death Sentence

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Year! Have some angst!

**Equal to a Death Sentence**

Dick was drunk. It wasn't often that he would be seriously drunk, but apparently it was one of those nights.

  
He was planning to get drunk at one of the dingy bars in Gotham. At first, he didn't want to go anywhere near Gotham tonight. But he didn't trust himself with being in Bludhaven. At least in Gotham, there were other people. In Bludhaven, he would be completely alone.   
  
He already drank half a bottle of cheap vodka when he saw Jason. Damnit. He was not prepared for that. He had specifically chosen a place nowhere near his family for the night. Why would Jason be here, now?  
  
Jason hadn't seen him yet, though. He could still get out of this bar.

And, Jason saw him. No going out now.   
  
Jason walked towards him, a smile on his lips. Dick wished he could be anywhere but here right now.   
  
“Well, well, well. The Golden Boy, slumming it in Gotham bar. Never thought this day would come,” Jason said.   
  
“What are you doing here, Jay?” Dick managed to bit out.   
  
“Nothing of particular interest, now that I saw you here." Jason shrugged. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Nothing,” Dick said.  
  
“Really? 'Cause I've got a dozen texts from Replacement to Demon Spawn to B asking if I've seen you anywhere.”  
  
“Well, are you going to tell them?”  
  
Jason tilted his head, then gave a half-shrug. “Nah. I'm curious though. What got your ribbons in a knot?”  
  
“None of your concern, Jay.”  
  
“Oh, come on! You're drunk in a bar on the outskirts of Gotham, evading the family. I'm not going to be the one who explains this to B.”  
  
“Then just scram, Jay.”  
  
Jason sighed. Then, he did something Dick didn't see coming. He sat down next to Dick, and asked for a glass from the bartender. When he got it, he poured a sizeable amount of the vodka Dick had on the table, then drank it in one shot. Through it all, Dick could only watch in amazement.   
  
“What is this shit? It tastes like, well, shit," Jason said.   
  
“You don't have to drink it if you don't want to, Jay," Dick said with a long suffering sigh.   
  
“Nah. If you're going to get drunk, I'm going to get drunk with you. Then you're going to my apartment.”  
  
That got Dick to look at Jason with amazement. “Don't think anything about it, I'm overdue for an apartment change anyway.”  
  
Dick let the matter drop. He continued drinking his vodka, only pausing periodically to check on Jason. Jason only sipped at his drink, aside from that first swig. Dick wondered what that meant.   
  
Dick took another shot of the vodka. He decided to try to decipher what it meant tomorrow, when he was not out of his mind with grief and drunk to the gills.   
  
After a while, there was nothing left in the bottle. Dick called for another one. Thanks to his training, he had an amazing tolerance for alcohol, and he wanted to get drunk tonight, not just slightly tipsy.   
  
Jason saw that and said, “Damn, Dickiebird."  
  
Dick just glared at him, then took another swig of the vodka.   
  
“Okay, okay.” Jason raised his hands.   
  
They fell into silence again, broken only by the clinking of glass on glass.   
  
After Dick had drank his way through most of the second bottle, Jason took his glass and said, “Okay, that's enough.”  
  
Dick was too intoxicated to resist Jason's suspiciously gentle hands. Jason half-dragged, half-carried him to where he put his bike. Wait a second. His bike.   
  
“You took a bike here?” Dick managed to get the words out.   
  
“Hey, it's not my fault you decide to get drunk. Just hold on, my apartment's not far.”  
  
Dick grumbled while Jason lifted him up his bike and put his hands around Jason's waist. The ride was short, as Jason's apartment really was not far from the bar.   
  
Jason then dragged (carried) Dick down from the bike, then up into the apartment. When they reached the apartment, Jason dumped him on the couch, then dissapeared into the kitchen.   
  
He reemerged with a glass of water. He gave it to Dick, who took it only after Jason had glared at him.   
  
“Drink. You'll feel better in the morning."  
  
Dick nodded. Jason went out again, and he could hear parts of a conversation. Dick was too tired and too drunk to try to keep up.   
  
Jason went back in, a sour expression on his face. It was the kind having a conversation with Bruce will bring out. “Just talked to the big bad bat. You'll have problems with him tomorrow, Goldie.”  
  
“Heh. Goldie. I doubt I'm the golden boy, Jay.”  
  
“Did really not hear the part where you and him are going to have problems tomorrow?”  
  
“We have problems anytime we met. It's nothing.”  
  
“Huh.”  
  
They fell into silence again, Dick sipping his water and Jason taking a seat at the sofa. After a while, Dick said, "Have I ever told you where I got the name Robin?"  
  
“I'm not in the mood for a storytelling session, Dickiebird.”  
  
“No, really, have I told you? I know I told you about Nightwing, but do you know where Robin came from?”  
  
Jason sighed. “I just assume you made it up. It sure sounds like it.”  
  
“My mother used to call me that,” Dick said.  
  
That got Jason to look at him, really look at him. “I don't want to hear this, Dick.”  
  
Dick continued on. “She said it was because I was born on the first day of spring. And because I fly. I was her little robin, giving life and cheer everywhere.”  
  
“Too much cheer,” Jason grumbled under his breath.  
  
“Sometimes I wonder if she would hate me, knowing that the name she gave me was identical to a death sentence.”  
  
“The fuck. I'm outta here.” Jason made a move to stand up. Dick, drunk as he was, still managed to pull him back down.  
  
“You asked me why I was drinking myself to a stupor back there. Well, here's the answer. My mother would hate the fact that Robin was now equal to a death sentence.”  
  
Jason opened his mouth to argue, but Dick beat him to it. “I know about the jokes. You and Steph and Damian joked that dying is basically a rite of passage by being Robin. And yeah. All of you died, Jay. You, Stephanie, Damian, Tim, died because of Robin.”  
  
“I wouldn't put Tim there.”  
  
“He died because he was a Robin, Jay. You can't argue with that.”  
  
Jason sighed. “Everyone in the hero industry died, Dick. You know that.”  
  
“But Robins died, more than anyone else. More than any mantle. Makes me wonder if it would be best that Bruce didn't take me in way back then. No Robins, no deaths.”  
  
“God, things I never wanted to know about your sad ass. That's simply the alcohol talking, Dickiebird. Go to sleep, you'll feel better in the morning.”  
  
Dick wanted to argue, but Jason glared at him. “Go. To. Sleep. Take the couch.”  
  
“All right, all right.” Dick was too tired to protest more. Jason somehow has gotten up from the sofa, and he laid down. Within seconds, Dick was fast asleep.  
***  
The next morning, Dick woke up with a terrible headache and a sore back from sleeping on the couch. He sat up, then he saw a glass of water and some aspirin. A note was slipped in between the glass and the table.  
  
_Robin was the best years of my life. I'm pretty sure Tim, Steph, and Damian felt the same._  
  
Ps. If you ever say this to anyone, I will kill you.  
  
Dick smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> check out my tumblr (huilian.tumblr.com)


End file.
